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Friday, April 17, 2009

Pagoda

Photo by Rachel CotterillMore of her photos can be found on her Flickr Photostreamand visit her Rachel's Ramblings blog~Suggested prompt...~Step inside this special place and let it inspire your creativity...

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The old gray tree leans towards the bright red orange screens, wishing for colors. The fly loops in and out of the pagoda but then lights on the gray trunk. The breezes stir the calligraphy on the octagonal table inside, and Chien Lung puts down his pen and rubs his eyes. He looks down at the writing and knows he could do better, but it's not bad. He loves to write, and enjoys every brush stroke. He gets up and goes down the creek 100 yards to the little tavern where he can get piso. He watches the water and knows life is good.

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6 comments:

The old gray tree leans towards the bright red orange screens, wishing for colors. The fly loops in and out of the pagoda but then lights on the gray trunk. The breezes stir the calligraphy on the octagonal table inside, and Chien Lung puts down his pen and rubs his eyes. He looks down at the writing and knows he could do better, but it's not bad. He loves to write, and enjoys every brush stroke. He gets up and goes down the creek 100 yards to the little tavern where he can get piso. He watches the water and knows life is good. Best,Laura Hoopes

Patricia ducked inside the pagoda while Derek continued to photograph the building from outside. It was very warm, and it looked cool inside in the shade. Patricia sat down on a bench that ran along the length of the building. She was so hot and tired, and Derek was really getting on her nerves. Why did he insist upon taking so many photographs? 'To capture the moment,' he said, but what if she didn't want the moment captured? She knew she looked ugly and she didn't want to have a thousand holiday snaps with her frowning into the lens.She took out her bottle of water and took a sip and then splashed a little on her face. Feeling refreshed, she looked around the cool interior of the pagoda. Murals covered the walls. They were exquisite, with deep blues, vibrant reds and plenty of gold leaf. Patricia traced the curling dragons with her eyes, amazed at how something so old had survived so well.She looked up and on the ceiling was a picture of a couple, arm in arm, with big smiles on their faces as if they were posing for a photograph. The man had very little hair and the woman had a round red face. They reminded Patricia of her and Derek, and the thought made her smile.She stood up and leaned out of the door to call to her husband.'Derek, I think you should come inside. There are plenty of good photo opportunities.'

When I step into the Pagoda I realize that the air is cooler inside. It is a relief to be away from the heat for just a few minutes. I look around and see the candles burning for loved ones passed. I realize I could sit here longer and relax.

The structure of this building is what created the interest, the intrigue, the curiosity within me. I had to get closer, place my hand on its walls. Admiring the intricate pieces that have molded together and become one beautiful piece of architecture, suddenly I felt drawn to take a step inside.

Upon entering, an uncertain feeling swept through me; a feeling I’d never felt before. Little did I realize where I was, until I saw this large statue of a chubby and smiley little man; it was Buddha. This was a house of worship.

My thoughts quickly erased the beauty of the structure on the outer walls and led me to the deeper meaning within. To my knees, I dropped myself; not to worship Buddha but to thank God for bringing me to this place; humbling me to see the hunger for spiritual fulfillment in the world. I was reminded of the many who worship things, other than the One who created them and my heart ached.

Seeing Buddha again, brought me back to my Grandparent’s house when I was so young. My Papa had many little statues of Buddha on the shelves in his living room. I never really fully understood then, the meaning of this chubby smiley little man but enjoyed looking at him. He made me laugh.

Knowing now what I didn’t know back then makes me wonder even more; why did my Papa enjoy these little Buddha’s so much? Maybe they reminded him of his own Faith; maybe he was humbled; as I am, to realize that so many in the world are searching for peace in their soul. Maybe, that little Buddha just made his childlike heart smile, as it did mine back then. I don’t know.

I realized that my thoughts had gone astray and picked myself up off of the floor. When I turned, I walked into this man. I didn’t even realize anyone had been in there with me. He asked me who I was worshipping. I told him the truth of my faith and the thoughts that I’d had. He was a Buddhist; and although we may disagree with the truth of life, we enjoyed the rest of our day together.

After we left the Pagoda, we took a stroll around the surrounding area and talked for a long time. We discussed all of the differences of what we believed, how we viewed the world and not once did we find ourselves with frustration or anger. For some reason, we found contentment and kinship that day, in one another.

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